


Grounded, Together

by SQ (proteinscollide)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Niall/everyone in his band, OT5, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proteinscollide/pseuds/SQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall’s going to get the tattoo of the screw, one day. He's just holding out for the right incentive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounded, Together

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Ro (littlerhymes) for being the best beta, as always; and to sullen_hearts for Brit-picking, beta-ing and reminding me to remember my left from my right. :)

He hears about the latest one from Paul, but Niall still has to laugh when he sees it for himself at a photoshoot a few days later.

"What is _that_?" Liam blurts out, putting a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave his mouth, looking apologetic.

Louis just laughs and ruffles Harry's hair. "Just Hazza making more terrible life decisions, or so the Daily Mirror tells me," he says.

Niall can’t really believe that Harry’s willingly chosen to get that on his skin permanently. He wets his thumb on his tongue quickly and rubs it against Harry’s arm.

“It’s real,” he says, trying to keep the dismay out of his voice.

Harry just smiles and pulls on the top Caroline hands him, the three-quarter sleeves hiding the ink from sight.

"I think it looks sick," Zayn says quietly from the corner of the couch. He grins up at Harry on the arm of the couch next to him, and knocks his knuckles against Harry's when he puts out his hand for a fist bump.

"Yours too," Harry says.

"You got another one too?" Niall asks.

"Yeah, me and Danny, the other night," Zayn says, unfolding his legs and sliding lower in his seat on the couch. Niall takes a sharp breath in as Zayn pushes up the hem of his Henley and pulls at the waist of his jeans.

Niall catches a glimpse of the tattoo, the dark outline at the top, a tantalising hint disappearing under the waistband that Zayn's having trouble pulling any lower, his trousers so tight they could've been sprayed on. Niall's itching to give him a hand, fingers already reaching out and close enough to brush against the skin low on Zayn's stomach, when Lou bustles up to them.

"Enough of this love-in," she says. "Zayn, they'll want you in a sec. Let me give you a touch up."

She drops her case and brushes on the table beside them and Zayn turns his face up to her obediently, folding his hands in his lap.

"Niall, be a love and go get dressed before Caroline has kittens, okay?"

Niall slopes off, but not before he takes one last look back at Zayn, thinking about the maddening peek he'd just had, still wondering what the new tattoo is, how it looks on Zayn's skin.

He gets his answer a bit later when Zayn's in front of the camera. They're old hands at this now, unfazed by the litany of shouted instructions. Zayn looks particularly comfortable, turning and posing and smiling as the photographer jokes with him. After about fifty shots, he's handed a change of clothes and Zayn shrugs and strips off easily in the middle of the studio without a second thought.

They're so used to this, quick changes between songs and at shoots in front of a disinterested crew, that Niall doesn't think to turn away either. It gives him a good look at the tattoo, a new line of script, curlicues and tails of a language he can't read. He wants to know what it means, why Zayn's put it there.

"You're drooling," Louis says, surprising him out of his reverie. Niall crosses his arms and looks away. He can feel his cheeks flushing. “Like looking, hey? Not that I could blame you,” Louis continues, a dirty smile crawling across his face.

"I just wanted to see if his new ink was any better than Harry's," Niall says thickly, the excuse sounding just as weak to his own ears.

"It couldn't be any worse," Louis says, snorting. "But you're _well_ interested in tattoos for someone without any of his own.” He smirks.

“Niall’s asking about tattoos?” Liam says, coming up behind them. “Why don’t you join us mate, get the screw?”

“Yeah, why won’t you?” Louis echoes. “And it’s just a small one,” he continues, insistent. “You’d barely feel it. Look, even Liam’s got a few now.”

“Liam has high pain tolerance,” Niall says. “He’d have to, he willingly hangs out with you.”

Louis squawks in protest, then reaches out and twists Niall’s nipple hard before he can block the move.

“Fuck! Come here, you – “ Niall’s hands are already outstretched in retaliation, but Louis is one step faster.

“It wouldn’t hurt any more than that,” Louis says, laughing as he ducks behind Liam.

A few minutes later, Niall flops back down on the couch beside them when he starts to run out of breath. Liam is a fucking brick wall when it comes to protecting Louis. 

“Ugh. Anyway, Liam did it because he does everything you tell him to.” Niall says, disgruntled. He folds his hands over his stomach and glares up at Louis, still protected within the circle of Liam’s arms.

“True, because I give him good incentive to,” Louis says with a wicked grin over Liam’s shoulder.

Then he cocks his head, as if struck by an epiphany, and he sits down on one arm of the sofa. Louis’ gaze slides over to Zayn, now chatting to Harry with their heads close together over Harry’s phone, before he looks Niall straight in the eyes and says, “Ah, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you’re holding out for.”

As he speaks, Louis’ hand slides casually over Liam’s head, over the close cropped hair, a caress that Liam arches into unconsciously. 

Niall tries to hide his flush as Louis’ words hit home. He doesn’t know all the details, but the memory’s not always far from his mind: Liam, head newly shaved, mouth swollen and red, stumbling out of Louis’ room with a real smile on his face, his first in days.

Looking well fit, his mind reminds him gleefully, looking well _fucked_. Niall pushes it to the back of his mind again, and keeps his face blank.

Louis shoots him a sharp, considering look anyway, and Niall’s dreading what ammunition he’s just given Louis, what teasing he’s going to have to endure. 

But then it’s Louis’ turn in front of the camera, Liam coming over to get Louis and having to give him a piggyback back into the studio for his trouble. 

Niall lies back on the couch and settles in for inevitably long and boring wait. He’s humming to himself while strumming an invisible guitar, when Harry comes and sits right on his stomach.

“Oof, get off me,” Niall says, wriggling under him. Harry grins, all dimples and curls, and starts easing his fingers under the loose shirt Niall’s wearing. “NO, don’t – don’t you fucking dare – if you mess up my hair and face now, Lou’ll kill me.” 

Harry laughs and stills his hands, fingers coming to rest lightly on Niall’s waist. He ducks down and plants a loud, smacking kiss on Niall’s cheek and says, “Sorry Nialler, can’t be incurring the wrath of Lou now, can we?” 

He nudges Niall until he turns on his side and shifts towards the edge so Harry can slide behind him, becoming the big spoon, arms around Niall with his hands overlapped over his stomach. “I just wanted a hug, that’s all,” Harry says. “It’s been a long day already.” 

“Yeah,” Niall says absent-mindedly. Moments later, he feels Harry’s breathing evening out behind him, and smiles fondly at the way he can sleep anywhere, any time. Yeah, it leaves him somewhat trapped but he doesn’t want to wake him because sleep is precious, he gets it. He amuses himself instead by tracing the line of ink down Harry’s arm, the scattered symbols, a history of friends and family and loved ones. 

Louis comes to get him when it’s finally his turn, catching him at it with his fingers lingering on the words on Harry’s wrist. He thinks it’ll start Louis off again, but he just gives Niall a soft smile and pulls him out of the circle of Harry’s arms. No one brings it up again, not that day or the next, about tattoos or bandmates he may or may not want. 

And that’s the end of it, Niall thinks.

They're back on the road not long after that, another round of publicity and performances and endless interviews. Niall's glad at least for the plush hotel rooms at the end of each night, cool sheets, soft beds and mindless TV to lull him to blessed sleep. So he's a little put out when he comes back to his room after food with the some of the crew to find the rest of his band already there.

"Thought you were going out," he says, trying not to sound disappointed at the turn of events. He loves his band, he really does, but he was looking forward to a bit of alone time.

"Nah, thought we'd stay in, okay?" Louis says easily, sprawled across Niall's bed. He looks comfortable, dressed in loose sweats and, judging by the way it hangs off him what looks to be one of Harry's shirts.

"Fine, but I was gonna take a shower," Niall says, stripping off his shirt as he crosses the room.

"Go head mate, we'll order some food," Harry says, also looking settled in the armchair in the corner, tapping away on his phone. Zayn and Liam are already setting up the console on his TV. Niall shrugs, and keeps heading to the bathroom.

The thing is, when he said alone time, he really meant wanking off, and the lads know it. They all know it gets frustrating on the road, with the lack of privacy on the buses, so he even though they’re all sitting out there, Niall’s still thinking he could do it now in the shower. He gets his hand on his dick, tugs once or twice, but then he hears Louis’ obnoxious laughter and people shuffling around just outside his door and he thinks they’ll know and he’ll never hear the end of it.

So he’s uncomfortably half-hard when he comes out of the bathroom, still towelling his hair, but then Louis passes him a bottle of beer and Niall doesn’t have it in him to be mad for long. He mumbles thanks and climbs over Louis to sit beside him on the bed. There's a bowl of chips on the bedside table, still hot, and they've even left him some of the crunchy bits he likes. He watches Zayn and Liam battle on screen until Liam goes down with a fight and then Louis is making grabby hands and saying, "Me, my go, c’mon!”

Liam swaps places with him and scoots up the bed to settle next to Niall, their backs against the headboard. He starts getting goosebumps from the cool breeze from the air-conditioning and Niall thinks about putting on a shirt. But then Liam shift besides him and brings his arm up around his shoulders, and Niall takes it as a sign to snuggle into Liam's warmth instead. And with a beer in one hand, reaching out for another handful of greasy chips every now and then with the other until he's finished the whole bowl, laughing himself sick as Louis and Zayn try to out-swear each other, Niall's feeling a lot more generous about his bandmates invading his room.

Zayn hands his controller to Harry and sits up on the bed by Niall's feet, watching the game on screen with rapt attention. Niall turns his face into Liam's chest and feels Liam's hand tighten around the top of his arm. Full, warm; Niall feels pretty good. He could fall asleep like this, and he's halfway there when he feels a touch, light, a hand brushing over his left calf.

But it’s not until the TV gets switched off, when the room suddenly seems very quiet, too quiet, that Niall startles to wakefulness. He still has his head pillowed on Liam’s shoulder, but Louis has moved up beside him so they’re bracketing him. Harry’s sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, Zayn standing next to him. Niall looks down just in time to see Zayn wrap his hand around his ankle, fingers curling around the bone and overlapping. Niall shivers, his first instinct to pull away. He tugs his foot back, but Zayn keeps his hold, turning his ankle gently one way then the other. The heaviness, the tug of desire low in his belly, comes back in full force and Niall closes his eyes, as if to shut it out. 

"So how about it?" Louis says.

His whole band are gathered around him, watching and waiting for the answer. 

"What?" Niall asks, playing dumb. He tries to pull his ankle away again, but Zayn holds on tight. Louis leans down and traces the cross of the screw head with his finger, onto the skin just above Niall's ankle in quick, sure strokes. 

"I could do it for you," Harry says. But he's smiling as he says this, and when Niall looks to him for reassurance, he does that thing with his hair, mussing it up and flicking it back with a practised move. It's such a normal thing that Niall starts to relax, go along with it.

"Haha, good joke, I get it," Niall says. "Maybe one day, I’ll - it’s not such a big deal, is it?"

“No, you’ll have to leave the band now,” Louis says in an arch voice. “Of course not, you know we wouldn’t - ”

“No, it’s just - I think it’d be - ” Zayn breaks in before trailing off. He looks at Niall and smiles slowly. “It’d look sick, man. And it’s like something we can all share.” 

There’s something in the way he looks at Niall’s skin, the way his fingers never leave Niall’s ankle, thumb brushing over the same spot over and over, that makes Niall wonder if the tattoo would have the same magnetic quality, something to draw Zayn in, to touch him all the time.

“Okay,” Niall says slowly, “What if I said yes, but only if Zayn does it.” 

Louis whoops, excited. Zayn smiles up at Niall through his eyelashes, and Niall thinks he’s probably making a big mistake, but he doesn’t take it back.

It goes by so fast - one moment, Zayn and Harry are having a hushed discussion, leaving the room; then the boys are back with the tattoo gun in their hands, all plugged in and ready to go. 

When the buzzing starts, Niall can’t help but jerk in reaction. Liam smiles down at him and says, “It’ll be okay, the pain’s not that bad, I promise.”

“It’s not that, it just - it tickles. Didn’t expect that,” Niall says. 

Liam laughs, and agrees. “Left me squirming as well. The girl doing it wasn’t too pleased.”

“But I got you to stop,” Louis says. Liam blushes then, a flush that starts in his cheeks and turns his neck ruddy, disappearing under the collar of the thin top he’s wearing. Niall is fascinated by the path of it, temporarily distracted from the discomfort by his left ankle. The memory of Liam stumbling out of Louis’ room drifts through his mind again; breathless, pink-lipped. 

His eyes dart back to Liam’s mouth, and he can hear the smirk in Louis’ voice when he adds, “From the looks of it, pretty sure Niall wants you to show him how I did it.”

Liam looks down and says softly, “Is that right?” 

Niall licks his lips, takes a deep breath, and says, “Yes please.”

Liam lifts Niall's face to his with a finger under his chin.

"You can tell me to stop, whenever you want," Liam says quietly, seriously. He bites his lip and throws a nervous glance back at Louis, but Niall almost misses it, too busy watching Liam's mouth, wondering again what it would feel like to have his teeth, his lips there.

It's answered in the next moment, when Liam presses his lips to his. Liam kisses him sweetly, almost chastely, and it doesn’t feel that different from being with a girl, not at first. But then there’s so many things flooding Niall’s senses - the scratch of stubble against his skin, the faintest hint of sweat and aftershave, the unfamiliar taste of Liam. The shock of it shifts Niall back for a second before he finds himself easing closer to Liam again, chasing the kiss, the realisation that above it all, he really wants it. 

Then Zayn says gruffly, “Mate, you can’t move like that. I know Liam’s distracting but, like, you know?” 

Niall turns to look at him, blinking for a moment like he’d forgotten the rest of his band are still in the room, watching. Zayn clears his throat, gives them a tight smile, and ducks his head to get back to work with the tattoo gun buzzing noisily once against Niall’s skin. Niall breathes in sharply at the contact, pain concentrating on his ankle once again.

“I said no moving,” Zayn says. He doesn’t look up, still intent on his work, but he gives Niall a slight slap on his calf. Niall can’t quite swallow the gasp as he feels a stab of desire low in his stomach, and Lou laughs, dirty and low. 

“Oh, you like that, Zayn getting all bossy with you.” He rests his hand against Niall’s crotch, base of his palm pressing down on his already hard cock and Niall moans at the pressure. He tries to buck up against it, but Louis raises his eyebrow and takes his hand away, as Zayn says, exasperated, “What did I just say?” 

He looks up, eyes dark and says, “Well, if you won’t behave we’ll just have to make you.” He waves one gloved hand and says, “Harry, go and like, I don’t know, sit on him or something, just keep his leg still while I finish this.” 

Harry grins and salutes. “Aye aye, captain,” he says in his worst attempt at an accent (so, all of them), clambering up and pulling Niall’s legs apart so he can rest in the V between them. He pillows his head on Niall’s thigh, on the leg Zayn’s working on, then rests a hand on his other leg. Niall’s torn about this configuration - now Harry’s blocking his view of Zayn, but on the upside he can’t see the needle on his ankle either. 

Harry says, very seriously, “So you heard the man, keep very still, okay?” But he glances up and grins mischievously at Niall, out of Zayn’s sight, and very slowly and deliberately breathes out, right at the level of Niall’s dick. Niall shudders, but then Harry’s digging his fingers into the muscle just above his left knee, making Niall hiss. It’s enough pressure to keep him tense, keep him still, even as it reminds him that he’s all worked up and can’t get himself off right now.

“Hey, hey,” Liam says softly. Niall glances at him and stares at the deep pink of his lips, plush and wet. “Keep your attention up here for a bit longer?” 

Niall’s good with that idea, the direction. He leans forward and Liam meets him easily. He starts off gentle as before, but it turns out Liam kisses like he usually plays around with them, forgetting his own strength. He’s rougher than he realises but Niall likes it, the way Liam has him pinned down with his leg thrown high across Niall’s, one hand in his hair and the other clasping his shoulder against the headboard. It makes him feel anchored, safe.

Then Liam bites down on his lower lip, almost hard enough to hurt, and as Niall’s breath hitches, he sucks it slowly into his mouth, running his tongue across it to soothe. It’s good, it’s enough to make the buzzing in the background grow faint and fade away, and Niall wants it to happen again, over and over, so intent on making it happen that he doesn’t register that Louis is talking, chin hooked over his shoulder.

“...not fair, what about me? I’m the one who taught you that, that was my move first.”

Liam breaks off with a laugh and ducks his head, even as Niall holds onto his hands to stop him from moving away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to steal it, just couldn’t help myself. Just - look at him, how wrecked he looks.” 

Niall swivels his head to look at them in turn, both regarding him fondly, small smiles on their faces. He takes a deep breath and turns back to Louis, their faces now so close they’re just a breath away. “So show me then,” he says, words braver than his voice. “Show me how you’d do it.” 

Louis barks out a laugh. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a quirk to his lips. “Thought I’d have to watch you two have all the fun.” 

“Yeah, me three,” Niall hears Harry say, a little petulantly, in the background but he’s not really paying attention because Louis is sliding his mouth over Niall’s, whispering, “Like this.” 

For all his bluster, Louis is always gentler than he seems. He keeps one hand cupped around Niall’s face, one finger stroking him in a caress as they kiss. He likes to nuzzle under Niall’s jaw, light little kisses before he sucks at the skin of his neck, sharp sensation against the warm heat of his mouth. Making out with Louis is less intense, slower than with Liam; almost calming, which Niall hadn’t expected. 

“Heyyyyyy, why do you guys get to have all the fun up there?”

Louis opens his eyes and grins, mouth still pressed against the corner of Niall’s mouth. “What, you mean like this?” he asks. He presses his thumb to the centre of Niall’s bottom lip, pulling it down before he licks his way in. Niall opens his mouth, sucks on Louis’ tongue lewdly, makes a show of it like he knows Louis wants him to. 

“Ugh, yes, you monsters,” Harry says. “When is it my turn? I’m down here and Niall’s cock is right there and I want a taste too.”

Niall’s leg twitches at this, and there’s a low growl from his throat. “Don’t tease me,” he says through gritted teeth, shifting all the while to try and get some relief, anything, with his cock straining against the material of his shorts. 

“I’m not,” Harry says, pouting. “I _really_ want to.”

From his left, Niall can hear Liam’s breath catch at that as well.

Harry sweeps his hand up and down from Niall’s knee to hip. On his second run, he ghosts one hand over the growing bulge in Niall’s pants, making Niall wriggle.  
Zayn makes an irritated noise and steadies Niall again with a hand on his shin, stilling him again. 

“How about you all think about me, doing all the hard work and reaping none of the rewards,” Zayn grumbles. “Just a while longer.” 

“A while,” Liam echoes with a sigh. Niall seeing out of the corner of his eye that Liam’s palming his own cock. When Niall catches his eye, he flushes but then he tilts Niall’s head towards him and bites down softly on Niall’s lower lip, smiling as Niall closes his eyes and goes all pliant under his hands. “Holding up okay?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, but there’s a little quaver in his voice. “I could - can you keep distracting me please?” He nudges Louis, still on his other side, with a shoulder and says shyly, “You both can.”

“Well, sharing is caring,” Louis says in a sing-song voice. “One and then the other, come on.” 

He mouths a trail from Niall’s neck to his mouth for a deep kiss before pushing Niall to Liam for a taste. Then Louis reaches over, grips Liam’s arm, and pulls him in for a kiss. Louis’ hand is still curled around the back of his neck and Niall watches transfixed from beneath them, noting the difference. Liam is more subdued with Louis, less bold; taking direction rather than leading. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Niall hears Harry mutter. He looks out from under Liam and Louis kissing to see Harry sitting up, a frown on his face, and then he’s yanking down Niall’s shorts, boxers and all. 

“What are you - ohhhhh,” Niall moans as Harry grins at Niall then dips his tongue dips out of his mouth and flicks it across the tip of his cock.

“Okay, okay, I’ve almost finished,” Zayn says suddenly. The buzzing stops abruptly and the silence seems very loud in that moment. Niall starts – he’d almost forgotten this all started with him getting a tattoo. 

Zayn stands up and leans back, cracking his back with a wince. He stares down at Harry and rolls his eyes. “Like, thanks for waiting, would a minute more have killed you?”

Niall snorts as Harry still manages to give Zayn the finger even as he leans forwards, sliding Niall’s cock across his lips back and forth, making Niall sigh and relax into the bodies behind him, Liam with his arm snaked around his waist, Louis’ loose around his shoulders. 

Zayn shakes his head and sighs. “Well, I’ve got to get something to wrap it up,” he says, “Left it in my room with the rest of the kit.” He looks at the scene before him - Niall, naked and hard, mouth inches from Louis’ flushed red swollen lips; Harry who’s already wrapped his fist around the base of Niall’s cock - and says dryly, “I’m pretty sure you can stay occupied for a bit.”

Niall hears the door close quickly behind Zayn, and then Harry’s blinking up at him with big pleading eyes. Louis tilts Niall’s face to him with a finger under his chin and says, low as if he’s sharing a secret, “Let him, he’s amazing.”

He laughs when Niall gasps into his mouth as Harry swallows him down. Niall throws an arm over his face, feeling the red spreading across his cheeks - between Liam’s thumbing his nipples, Louis mouthing and occasionally biting the junction between his neck and shoulder, and the warm wet suction of Harry’s mouth, he knows he’s not going to last much longer. 

Then there’s a noise from the foot of the bed. Niall looks to find Zayn there watching him, fingers gripped tight around the end of the bed. And then Niall’s coming so hard and fast with a roar in his ears, almost whiting out at the intensity and the relief.

As he comes down from it, shaking a little, Zayn is still watching him, mouth slightly parted, breathing hard. His skin feels hot everywhere, even where he’s not touching anyone and no one is touching him, and he wishes Zayn had been part of it all, that it had been Zayn’s hands on him, bringing him to release. He finds his voice finally and says in a rasp, “Zayn – “

Zayn smiles softly, and comes around the side of the bed, leaning over Louis to give him a kiss, chaste and sweet and over too soon. Niall makes a noise of protest, but Zayn just holds up some plastic wrap and says, “Not quite finished yet.”

He does a careful job; delicate, tender. Niall’s hard again, just watching Zayn’s clever hands flitting around his ankle, the angry flush of his skin disappearing under the layers, hiding the simple dark screwtop cross. 

In the meantime Louis has grabbed Liam and Harry and dragged them out of bed, an arm around each of them, guiding them to the other bed. Lying flat on his back, Niall is only aware of the their movements out of the corner of his eye, hearing the soft wet noises as they kiss and slide around each other. He pouts a little, wondering why they’ve taken the party with them. 

“You can’t do anything to knock that, for now,” Zayn says, breaking into Niall’s thoughts. He tips his head to one side, a nod to the others. “They’re only trying to keep out of your way.”

Niall flushes. “I already forgot,” he confesses.

Zayn smiles, lazy and slow. He says, “I thought you had. Bet you won’t look after my hard work properly either.”

Zayn runs his fingers along Niall’s other leg, from ankle along his high to his hip, a slow drag, light press. Niall’s breathing speeds up. Zayn doesn’t look away from him. When he finally reaches Niall’s hip, he stops, bites his bottom lip and then moves his hand to his own belt and slowly starts to undo it. 

Niall stays quiet, not wanting to break the spell. He can hear someone keening, desperate - Liam’s voice, and a murmured mix of Harry and Louis, as they urge him on. But all his concentration is on what’s in front of him now, Zayn naked and climbing onto the bed beside him. He lowers himself over Niall, straddling his right leg, careful not to knock the other. He spits into his hand and leans forward, fitting his hand around both their cocks. Niall shivers at the touch and then they’re rocking back and forth within the grip, slowly, deliberately.

“I’ll look after it for you, if you like,” Zayn says, breathlessly. There’s a hitch in his voice. “You’ll have to come to my room each day so I can check on the ink, use cream on it.”

Niall can imagine it now – Zayn with his clever fingers on his ankle, his mouth on him every night, the rest of the band helping him, maybe. 

“I’m glad you talked me into this,” he gasps into Zayn’s mouth, feeling it in his chest as Zayn chuckles, pressed against him, and he’s never been more certain of anything in his whole life in that moment. 

It’s barely 24 hours before sharp-eyed fans spot it in a grainy photo taken outside the next venue, and barely 48 before they’re being asked about it.

“Niall, you’ve said for ages you weren’t ready to get a tattoo,” the interviewer says the next day. “But I can see one peeking out from just above your socks now. What made you change your mind?”

“The guys just made a really convincing argument for it bringin’ us together, closer,” Niall says. 

He ignores Louis’ snigger, the blush fighting its way above Liam’s collar, the way Harry’s fiddling with his hair just moment after he fixed it. He just keeps his eye on the way Zayn is smiling at him, beautiful and bright, and adds, “In fact, I'd say it's probably one of the best ideas the band’s ever had.”

END

**Author's Note:**

>  _Interviewer:_ Have you all got tattoos of screws on your ankles these days, is that true?  
>  _Louis:_ Yeah  
>  _Zayn:_ Four of us -  
>  _Harry:_ Apart from Niall  
>  _Zayn:_ \- yeah, Niall’s a bit scared still.  
>  _Interviewer:_ Oh, so you’ve not had one yet, Niall?  
>  _Niall:_ No, but I’ve got to get it done though…have to be in the crew.
> 
>  
> 
> [listen to the audio snippet](http://proteinscollide.tumblr.com/post/33769031606/spookythirst-zarryisloveotp-we-were)


End file.
